


Q-ilts: Q has a secret

by lilyrose14



Series: Lab notes [4]
Category: 00Q - Fandom, James Bond (Craig movies), Q (James Bond) - Fandom
Genre: James and Q are idiots, M/M, Moneypenny to the rescue again, Q has a thing for kilts, Skyfall References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:41:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyrose14/pseuds/lilyrose14
Summary: Yet another adventure in the lives of James and Q, who always make things more difficult then they need to be, but amuse Eve Moneypenny to no end.  "The gentlemen doth protest too much, methinks"





	Q-ilts: Q has a secret

**Author's Note:**

> So... this is what happens when I travel. I just returned from a week in Scotland and well... this seemed rather inevitable and it just sort of tumbled out. I really don't know how I end up putting these two in these situations, but they amuse me. Hope you are equally amused by their adventures. And I love Eve more than I can say. 
> 
> *Additional little comment- Two days ago I put up the little short "Photos" story and was thrilled that so many people read and liked it so quickly. This one is a bit longer at a little over 6000 words. I'll be curious to see if you all prefer tiny vignettes, or longer developed stories, for future reference as I hope to continue to write for these two as inspiration strikes.*

Q-ilts: Q has a secret

From the official lab notebook of the MI6 Quartermaster: 

Summary: Eve has informed me that MI6 will be adding a new line in the human resource book, identifying stand offs between double 0 agents and quartermasters as dangerous and contributing to a hostile work environment. I think she also said something about torture, and possibly sexual harassment. I tuned her out when the bagpipe music started coming through the interoffice speakers and I had to figure out how to hack it immediately to shut it off. 

~~~

It was an infrequent event when James Bond, 007, most deadly agent for her Majesty's secret service felt a moment of insecurity, a second of self-doubt. But when he noticed his boyfriend's head was turned, and stayed turned far too long, a blush on his cheekbones when he finally turned back, which deepened to a red when he saw James had spotted him, making him duck his head, James couldn't help but fight back a surge of uncertainty. Someone had caught Q's eye and it was serious enough to make Q blush and look away when James caught him. But who the hell was it. 

James peered at the group of people milling in the room around them. He ruled out the women. Q appreciated beauty, but he had never seen a woman make Q blush. Only Moneypenny could do that and that wasn't because of how she looked, although she certainly was a head turner, it was what she said. Searching the rest of the room, Bond couldn't spot who might stand out, and the more he looked the more frustrated he got when he couldn't figure it out.

Then he saw Q's eyes flick to the side again and James followed his line of sight. James ticked off all the people he saw, woman, woman, woman, no, no, no, older man in ill-fitting suit. James paused. Q sometimes wore suit coats that were clearly too large for his frame, that was, until James started replacing them with better tailored pieces. This man couldn’t be whom Q had noticed. Younger man with brunette wavy hair, trim, blue velvet cocktail jacket, James paused. Blue velvet. Who wore blue velvet? Especially to an MI6 event. James raised his eyebrows, Q would, and he’d look good in it too. And this young man had some of Q’s attributes. But it didn’t sit right, James couldn’t deny the man was attractive, but he wasn’t Q’s type. Or at least not what James thought was Q’s type. Another woman, no, no, stocky man in tuxedo, no, Tanner, no. James saw Tanner look at him and raise his glass in acknowledgement, a blush quickly surfacing on Tanner’s neck. James smiled and winked, making Tanner smile then look away. James chuckled; he was starting to believe that Q was right, and that Bill might actually have a crush on him. Two more men in navy blue suits, a man in a kilt, a woman in garish red sequins who was clearly leering at Q which made James shoot her an evil look and then James spotted him. Middle aged, but not yet silver, wide shoulders, silver gray suit, ice blue eyes. Totally Q’s type, because he totally looked liked James.

James leaned into his boyfriend’s shoulder, deciding a bit of teasing would help him feel better about the bout of jealousy he still found frustrating. “Do you want me to introduce you to him?” 

Q whirled to face James, “Who? What are you talking about?” Q knew James had seen Q’s reaction but he was hoping James would ignore it. 

“The man in the silver suit, the one who caught your eye. I know him.” 

 

“What man in a silver suit?” Q lifted his head to see whom James was talking about. “Him?” he turned to look at James, in confusion. “Why would you want to introduce me to him?”

“Pretty sure I saw you blush when you spotted him across the room Q. My broad shoulders and blue eyes aren’t enough to hold your attention these days?” James brushed his lips over Q’s ear seductively. 

Q laughed, realizing James had made a mistake, but Q wasn’t going to correct him. “Oh, you are still more than enough to hold my attention these days. Take me home and I’ll let you prove it to me.” He leaned in and slid his lips over James’ softly making James catch his breath with a little tremble. 

Every time Q kissed James in public it caught James by surprise and made his heart race. And he always scanned the crowd when Q pulled away to see people’s reactions, which almost always were a mix of jealousy and or appreciation. James liked that. He liked that people were jealous that Q had picked him and not someone else. It made him walk a little taller, and smile a little brighter. Q always just shook his head when he noticed James preen. “Like you need an ego boost,” Q would say. But this time Q had turned away quickly, grabbing his own suit coat and leaning over to say goodbye to Eve, kissing her on the cheek before turning back to James. 

“You know I have a silver suit, I could model it for you.” James offered as he took Q’s hand in his, turning towards the door to make their goodbyes to the host. 

“I think I’d rather you just take this one off,” Q murmured into James’ ear as he leaned in closer. 

“I can do that,” James smiled, intending to do everything he could to make Q forget all about the man in the silver suit. 

~~~

A week later James came into the flat, bag of groceries from Sainsbury's in his arms, when he spotted an open picture on Q's laptop on the dining room table. About to call for Q for help with the bags, instead he walked closer to see more clearly what was on the screen. He was confused by what looked like a man wearing a kilt but who was partially tipped forward, balancing on his elbows, when suddenly James found himself hip checked by Q who leapt in front of him, as he came out of the kitchen a cup of tea in his hand, reaching for the minimize screen button to close what had been there before James could get to close. 

"Q! Bloody hell!" James protested as the bag tipped, Clementine oranges rolling across the floor, Benji in hot pursuit, his claws grabbing one as it headed under the table. 

Q was covered in hot tea, the slosh from his mug when he lurched forward splashing on his t-shirt, he was quickly trying to pull it off and over his head, his glasses askew, yelping from the hot liquid. "Bugger, bugger!" 

Chaos in the living room, Penelope ran for cover heading down the hall, Benji couldn't get the orange off his foot, his claws stuck in the rind, Q half undressed with his shirt stuck and James tipped back onto the ottoman, groceries everywhere, the only one unaffected was Ellie, who watched the whole thing from the back of the couch, clearly judging this to be a non emergency which did not require energy on her part to deal with. 

"What the hell?" James protested. 

"Sorry, sorry," Q offered, mopping at his bare stomach with his wet t-shirt now that he had pulled it off his head. "You surprised me, I didn't think you were going to be home so soon."

"Obviously," James leaned over to grab Benji, tugging the stuck orange off his paw, and wiping the orange juice that dripped from his claws on his own trousers before letting the cat go. "And just what was on that computer screen that you clearly didn't want me to see." 

"Nothing!" Q protested too quickly. "It was nothing." 

James raised his eyebrows and cocked his jaw sideways giving Q his "try again, I know you are lying to me, I'm not that stupid," look. 

"It was nothing, just something Eve sent as a joke. It's nothing." Q was blushing. 

"Right..." James nodded. Q was hedging. "And you jumped to knock me out of the way why?" 

Q didn't have an answer. He just blushed a deeper pink and turned away to start grabbing spilled groceries to take into the kitchen. “Did you get the bacon? I promised I’d make brunch.” 

James chuckled. “Yeah, I got the bacon. Apparently they were done with the conversation about the mysterious man on Q’s computer screen. Seemed like a conversation with Eve was in order. 

~~~

"Eve, my lovely friend," James purred as he walked into her office the next morning.

"James?" Eve glanced at her planner. "You don't have a meeting with M this morning, why are you here." 

"I came to see you," he smiled. 

This made Eve purse her lips and narrow her eyes at him. "Why?" she asked guardedly. 

"I can't come say hello without you questioning my motives, I'm hurt by that." James protested, perching his hip on the corner of her desk. 

"What do you want James?" she asked, one eyebrow now rose, calling his bluff. 

"Why are you sending my boyfriend pictures of men doing yoga in kilts?" James asked. 

Eve raised her eyebrows at him and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she smirked at him. "Did Q tell you I sent him pictures of men in kilts?" 

"I came back from the grocery yesterday and walked in on his computer unattended, a picture of a man in a kilt doing some yoga pose was on the screen, and when Q found me he hip checked me out of the way to close the picture, and then told me you sent it to him." 

"Did he then..." Eve snickered. 

"Didn't you?" James asked. 

Eve leaned forward on her elbows, her fingers intertwined, her chin now perched on top of them a mischievous grin on her face. "Nope." 

"No?" James said, surprise in his voice. 

"Nope, wasn't me." Eve smiled serenely. 

"Then who sent him the picture? Why would he say it was you?" James looked confused. 

Eve snickered, "don't know. Should I text him and ask him?" She reached for her phone.

"NO!" James reached out, stopping her hand. "Don't say anything. I'll figure it out." 

"Un huh." Eve smiled, "good luck with that." 

And as James walked out of Eve’s office he paused, finally connecting the dots. It wasn’t the guy in the silver suit that had gotten Q’s attention at the cocktail party; it had been the guy in the kilt. Q had a thing for kilts; James realized with a smirk, oh, this had potential. 

~~~

Two weeks later James was in Brussels for a short mission to retrieve stolen military pass codes when Q chimed in through the comm link. “Woman with the stolen codes has them on a portable hard drive in her black clutch. Think you can manage to steal them back without seducing her?” 

“Believe me, I’ll find a way. I hate having to go through all the STI tests when I get back before you’ll let me back in bed.” 

Q snickered, “I’m not letting your cock anywhere near me unless I know where it’s been.” Q watched James through the CCTV in the hotel lobby approach the woman at the bar, “Oh and by the way a large package arrived for you today at the flat, what did you order?” 

“Oh good it came! Don’t open it.” James smiled. Now he had even more reason to wrap up this mission quickly and get home to London.

“What is it?” Q asked, now curious about the package. But James couldn’t answer, he was sliding his hand around the seat of the woman with the stolen pass codes, leaning in to flirt with her as he waved over the bartender to order her a drink, his fingers flipping open her clutch and nimbly removing the hard drive. He watched James slide it seamlessly into his front suit coat pocket as he sat back, the impish sexy smile on his face suggesting he was planning to go ahead and have that drink with her in celebration. 

“Don’t stay out too late James. She’ll eventually notice it’s gone and figure out it was you,” Q chided him through his earpiece. James looked up at the CCTV and winked quickly before looking back at the sable haired beauty. “I’ll see you at home tomorrow,” Q added. “Don’t make me send you to medical for an STI check.”  
Q kept an eye on James until after the drink when James said his goodnights and headed up alone to his hotel room. 

James blew a kiss to the CCTV camera in the elevator before getting off on his floor to grab a few hours sleep before catching a flight home the next morning, the boarding passes already loaded to his phone, purchased by Q while James was finishing his martini. 

~~~

James had come into MI6 from the airport to debrief with Tanner, get the cursory medical check done and drop off the hard drive with Q branch. Q was in a meeting when James stopped in, and was surprised when he got done to find out James had already come and gone, the hard drive left with Riley a text message on his mobile, “see you when you get home. Don’t be late tonight.” 

Q sighed, disappointed he hadn’t seen James, and then pursed his lips as he retrieved the hard drive before turning to go back to his office.

Coming through the door not exactly on time, but not as late as he thought he might be, Q dropped his coat on the sideboard by the door calling out for James, “I’m home! Where are you?” Two more steps down the hall to the living room and Q froze, dropping his over the shoulder satchel dumbly to the floor, his mouth dropping open. 

There was James, sitting in the wingback chair, one leg draped over one arm, reclined back, his arm stretched over the back corner. He was wearing nothing but a kilt, and the pleats had been strategically placed to slide down his thigh, hiding what might be visible underneath as he shifted in the chair, his leg drifting just a bit further up the arm. 

“Bloody hell,” Q murmured. 

“Welcome home,” James said with a smile. 

“How did you…? Why are you…? When…?” Q was stammering. “Wait! Is that what was in that package?!” 

“Like it?” James said with a wink. 

“Why are you wearing a kilt?” Q said, standing stock still in the entrance to the living room. 

“Because you have a thing for kilts, and I have a thing for you, so ergo, I’m wearing a kilt for you.” James gave him a “duh, don’t be stupid” look. 

“How do you know I have a thing for kilts?” 

“That night at the cocktail party, it wasn’t the guy in the silver suit, it was the guy in the kilt,” James dropped his leg, both feet on the floor, learning forward as he watched Q start to blush. “Which I figured out after Eve told me she didn’t send you that picture of the guy in the kilt doing yoga.” 

“You actually saw that.” Q stammered. “I thought I… bloody hell, you asked EVE about it?”

“Yep, you weren’t quite quick enough, I’m afraid. I saw it before you minimized it. And of course I asked Eve, she knew nothing about it, but she thought it was hysterical that you would blame her for your fascination with men in kilts.”

Q just stood there. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” James said, now standing. 

“I…” Q started then stopped. He was truly in a full blush and put his hands to his cheeks to feel the heat, embarrassed by all of this. Then he stepped forward in a stammer, “because after Skyfall, after you blew up and then walked away from your Scottish past, after what happened with M, after… I didn’t think you wanted memories,” Q looked at James, “or reminders…” he let the sentence end.

James nodded. “Thank you for considering all of that, but it’s okay.”

“No it’s not. And besides,” Q planted his feet, his hands on his hips, a big sigh before trying to regain control of the situation, “it’s bloody embarrassing.” 

James stood up and Q took a breath, noticing he was even sexier in the damn thing when standing up. 

James couldn’t help the smile that slid onto his face as he stepped closer to Q. “Why is it embarrassing?” He slipped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, bringing him up against him before pressing a kiss to Q’s mouth, but Q was still rigid and his lips didn’t soften. He stepped back to look at Q. “Really? No response from you? You were supposed to be turned on by finding me in a kilt Q, I ordered this damn thing for YOU. What’s wrong?” 

“I am turned on,” Q said, “Of course I am. I mean, come on… look at you! But I… I don’t know.” Q flailed his hands up and turned away from James. “The kilt thing was private. I feel caught out.” 

“So you don’t want me to bring this particular fantasy to life?” James smiled, coming up behind Q to slide his arms around him again, this time from behind, balancing his chin on Q’s shoulder as he leaned into him. 

“No!” Q reached down to pull James hands away. “No… I mean I don’t know.” 

“Q, seriously what the hell is wrong?” James stepped back in frustration. 

“Nothing.” Q protested stepping further away. “Nothing is wrong. I’ve just had a shit day and I wasn’t ready for this.” 

James nodded once and shook his head, “ready for this?” 

“THIS!” Q turned around and waved his hands at James, “This, you, like this! Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this? And now… you just… Uhhh!” Q whirled around in frustration again. 

“What? You wanted a kilt fantasy to go a certain way? Have I ruined it for you?” James was getting pissy. 

“YES!” Q said loudly scaring the cats. “No, I mean….” 

“Whatever Q,” James rolled his eyes, “Forget it, I’ll go change.” 

“No, don’t go,” Q reached for his arms to stop him. “You just caught me by surprise.” 

“It was supposed to be a good surprise,” James huffed. 

Q sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss to James’ pouty bottom lip. “I know. And bloody hell you are gorgeous in this. I’m sorry.” Q slid his hands around James’ waist, his fingers sliding down to the pleats that covered his arse, slowing bunching the fabric up, one inch at a time. 

James stepped back when he realized what Q was doing. “Oh no you don’t. Now you don’t get to find out what’s underneath this until I’m ready.” 

Q chuckled, “aren’t you always ready?” 

“Normally I’d say yes to that, but now I’m holding out. Whatever this kilt fantasy of yours is…”

“It’s not a bloody fantasy,” Q interrupted, rolling his eyes. “I just like…”

“Whatever it is,” James interrupted, “I’m taking charge now. You don’t get access to this kilt until I say so.” 

“Seriously?” Q laughed. 

“Seriously,” James said.

“What? You think I can’t resist you?” Q raised his eyebrows as he laughed, stepping backwards. 

James smirked, “I know you can’t.” He lifted one corner of the kilt higher over his knee. “I saw the look on your face when you came through that door. And all your flailing about this at first, you are so covering. Me thinks you doth protest too much. But I’ll be damned if you are going to ogle other men in kilts on the Internet.” 

“Right,” Q nodded slowly. “Just because you put a kilt on, doesn’t make me a puddle. And the quote is, the lady doth protest too much, methinks.” 

“Whatever… methinks that’s a challenge,” James put his hands on his waist just above the line of the kilt, spreading his feet, then shaking his arse to make the kilt swing back and forth. 

“Challenge accepted,” Q rolled his eyes. “Now pardon me while I go change before dinner. I think I’ll put on those black skinny jeans you like so much. I suspect you’ll be a puddle before I will.” 

James watched Q walk down the hall. “Shit… That’s really not playing fair Q,” he said quietly.

“I heard that James,” Q said over his shoulder, “no one ever said we had to play fair.” 

~~~

The problem with a sexual stand off was that neither one of them was willing to give in and it was torture for literally everyone. 

Three nights of James freezing his arse off as he walked around the flat in a kilt with no pants on underneath, and Q realizing that his skinny jeans cut off the circulation to his feet if he wore them too long and they were both regretting this decision. But the worst part was going to bed at night. Kilt free, skinny jeans free, neither one of them was willing to breach the distance, afraid it would be seen as a surrender, and neither one was willing to ask for clarification of the rules. As a result, both men were simmering pots of sexual frustration, and getting grumpy at everyone around them because of it. 

After the third day, when James paraded around Q branch in his kilt, complete with sporran and jacket, although opting for black combat boots instead of the traditional lace up tie shoes, which Riley had to admit made the whole kit look even sexier, Q just about exploded. Barking orders at everyone, while wearing his black skinny jeans, a tight t-shirt under his cardigan and what appeared to be black eyeliner, Q made life a living hell for everyone on the floor. Riley finally sent a message asking Eve to intervene. 

Eve arrived at the end of the day to find Q in his office, his hair wilder then she’d ever seen it, clear he had been tugging on it constantly, the whole mass of it nearly standing straight up. “Q?” 

“Go away Moneypenny, I’m busy.” Q huffed. 

Eve shut the door behind her and clicked her stilettos towards Q’s desk, ignoring his dismissal. “Q, why is James walking around in a kilt, and apparently now suggesting that he’s going to bring in bagpipes?” 

“He is NOT!” Q’s head come up in a flash and whirled to look at Eve. 

Eve laughed out loud. “No, I made that up to get your attention. But why is he walking around in a kilt?” Then she squinted at him. “Wait a second. Q, are you wearing eyeliner? And what is with the hair and skinny jeans?” 

Q rolled his eyes at her. “Nothing. It’s stupid. James and I are having this stupid stand off and it’s driving me crazy.” 

“What’s the stand off about sweetie?” Eve asked, perching herself beside Q, and reaching out to ruffle her fingers through the tower of hair that stood upon his head. 

Q looked at her. Silently. For a long time. His mouth moving back and forth as he debated about what to tell her. She waited him out. She could tell the moment he was about to break and said quietly, “spill it Q.” 

Q broke like a damn. “I know James told you I was looking at a picture of a man in a kilt. I’ve always had a thing for kilts Eve. I don’t know why. I just have. The idea of masculine legs, underneath… oh never mind why,” he caught himself. “And of course James’ family was Scottish, and god, the idea of James in a kilt. I’ve always wanted to see him in one. But then after Skyfall, I knew it could never happen. But then when David from finance wore a kilt to the MI6 end of year cocktail party it got the image in my head again. I swear I hadn’t even considered it for such a long time. And the one time. The one bloody time I look up a picture on the Internet and of course James spots it. And then I blamed it on you, and I couldn’t just tell him. It was embarrassing. But then I come home from work and he’s sitting there in a goddamn kilt and nothing else. Nothing else!! And I didn’t know what to do and I was stupid and I should have just dropped to my knees in front of him, but I didn’t. I tried to refuse him. I don’t know why. It was so stupid, but I was embarrassed. And then when I tried to move past it and he got frustrated with me and essentially challenged me to try to keep my hands off of him, and you know me, I don’t like to be told what I can and can’t do so I accepted the damn challenge. And for the past three days we’ve been torturing each other and I know for a fact that he can’t resist my arse in these damn too tight jeans. But I can’t feel my feet anymore Eve. It’s been three days of this. And I’m doing just about anything I can to get him to break, because I refuse. I REFUSE to be the one. But bloody hell. We go to bed and nothing. We haven’t kissed each other in three bloody days because we both clearly think that shows a sign that we are caving. How did this happen? He showed up in a fucking kilt! It’s my biggest fantasy and now I’ve been watching him walk around going on four fucking days and I can’t touch him. Bloody hell. Eve… help me.” Q dropped his head to his desk in despair. “Fuck.” He mumbled one more time. 

Eve was doing all she could not to laugh, because this was beyond hysterical. But that wouldn’t help and she knew Q would shut down if she did. So swallowing her desire to giggle, she reached down and threaded her fingers into this hair trying to calm him down. “Did you get it all out?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he said to the desk, not raising his head, before adding petulantly, “I think so.” 

“Right.” Eve said. “Well that explains the mood you’ve both been in. And quite honestly, between the two of you, everyone in MI6 is living through this sexual frustration with you. James looks like sex on legs walking around in that tartan and boots. 

“I know,” Q looked up at her pitifully. “Imagine him in that tartan and boots with no shirt. That’s what I’m dealing with at home.” 

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry.” Eve hummed. “That must be such a burden for you,” she teased him. “And then there is you. You, in your tight jeans and rock star hair, you are a fucking wet dream.” 

“Eve.” Q rolled his eyes.

“I’m not kidding.” Eve laughed. “If one of you doesn’t cave soon, half the people in MI6 are going to need time off with vibrators.” That actually made Q laugh. “Give in Q,” she said. 

“No,” Q shook his head. 

“Why not? What are either of you trying to prove? You live together. You are in a relationship. You both already know that you are attracted to each other. You’ve been fucking each other for over a year. So what’s the point in the stand off? To prove you can resist him? Why would you want too?” 

Q looked at her. 

“Seriously. This is dumb. Go find him and run your hands up under his kilt and get him off. Release the damn tension. Live the bloody fantasy. Let him peel you out of those damn jeans. Everyone will thank you for it.” 

Q sighed. “I can’t.” 

Eve stared at him. “You can. You just won’t.” 

“Fine, I won’t.”

“Why the bloody hell not?” Eve raised her voice. 

Q shook his head. “It’s the principle of the matter now. It’s a power struggle. And if I let James win this, I lose…”

“You still outrank him at MI6 Q. You don’t lose any power. What you gain is the gratitude of every single person here. Because I swear to god if he shows up with bagpipes I’m going to get Riley to authorize me a gun and I’m going to shoot him, and then I might just take aim at you.” 

Q laughed. “Pretty sure there won’t be bagpipes involved.” 

Eve jumped down off the desk, smoothing her skirt. “I give up. I tried. You are both idiots.” She headed for the door. “I’m charging your budget for the vibrators I’m ordering and leaving on everyone’s desk to deal with the sexual tension in this place.” 

“Eve!!” Q protested as she walked out. “Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger. Fuck!” Q complained out loud, rubbing his hands over his thighs roughly trying to force blood to his feet. 

~~~

Two more days with no resolution and Eve finally took matters into her own hands. Q refused to sit next to Bond on the train, but when the person with the reserved seat where Q was sitting got on in Peterborough Q had no choice but to move and take his reserved seat next to James. 

“This is total farce.” Q was still protesting quietly. “There is no mission in Scotland, and I know for a fact that brief Moneypenny delivered with these train tickets and some cockamamie summary of a rogue bagpiper terrorizing the highland cattle is a crock, and not something MI6 would even care about, even if it was true." Q didn't even raise his head as he said all of this. "I don't really have time for this you know, given the deadline for the new budget." 

James just rolled his eyes. He had every intention of giving into Q last night, but when the train tickets arrived by courier and James read what Eve had sent he couldn’t help but see it through. She was sending them to Scotland. "Maybe it's a bagpiper with a secret super sonic high frequency wave producing technology that can be used as a weapon that you can hack and adapt for MI6 to make people temporarily lose their hearing." James offered.

Q looked over at James, "I'm pretty sure that is true of all bagpipes. They are all deafening." 

"You do know I play the bagpipes don't you?" James said, actually insulted by Q's insinuation about bagpipes. 

"You've certainly got plenty of hot air, I'm not surprised." Q said off handedly, missing the angry look that crossed James face. Then he looked sideways at James, “Do you really?”

“Yes,” James said with a stern line to his mouth. He was having no problem ignoring his attraction for Q in his tight jeans, Q was being a shit and James would love to get a little distance at the moment. “You know, I think I’ll see what they have in the café car.” And with that he stood, the pleats of his kilt swishing around his knees as he headed down the aisle. 

Q laid his head back on the headrest in frustration and resignation. He grabbed his mobile to text Eve. “This is unfair. I thought you would be on my side in all of this. Sending me to Scotland with him. I’m going to be on bloody kilt overload thanks to you.” 

“It might work out better then you think Q. Just try to not kill each other. I’d like you both back in one piece.” Eve replied with a smile, and an emoji of a bagpipe. Q didn’t know where she found these but it was enough to make him turn off his mobile in a huff. 

It turned out Eve was right. Well sort of. Because it wasn’t Q who was taunted by all the kilts, it was James watching Q look at all the kilts that finally broke the stand off. After wandering the streets of Edinburgh all day following up on Eve’s totally fictitious trail of rogue bag-pipers, kilts galore all turning Q’s head as he took in the sites James had finally had enough. He was ready to remind Q of where he ought to be looking. So when they finally made it back to the Old Waverly hotel, James wasted no time pinning Q to the door of the hotel room as soon as it was closed. He pressed a pleated knee between Q’s thighs and then pressed his mouth to Q’s, expecting Q might refuse him, kissing him roughly. “Enough,” he huffed against Q’s neck as he reached for Q’s belt buckle. “Enough!” 

Q was a live wire, the tension between them had strung him out tight, and as soon as James kissed him, he was flooded with lust. “Bloody hell,” Q heaved, “about fucking time.” He pushed James back and dropped to his knees, running his hands up James’ legs to disappear beneath the tartan pleats, and then Q disappeared as well. 

“Unnhhh,” James nearly toppled backwards, his eyes rolling back in his head at the feel of Q’s mouth. And then something Gaelic suddenly erupted from his mouth as Q swallowed him. 

Q quickly reappeared, hair ruffled, cheeks red and flushed, “I didn’t know you spoke Gaelic.” 

James just stared at him in disbelief, before Q smiled, “right, I’ll just get back to it, shall I?” and disappeared back beneath James’ kilt. 

Several hours later, both men unable to move from exhaustion James started to laugh, making Q turn his head to look at his boyfriend. The kilt spread out over the top of them like a blanket. “What’s so funny?” Q asked. 

“If I promise to wear this kilt more often, will you promise we can do this every time?” James asked.

“As long as you don’t mean the last six days,” Q huffed.

“God no. That was just stupid. No, the fucking fantastic sex part.” James asked. 

Q sighed, “you aren’t worried that this was so intense, BECAUSE we held off for so many days?” 

James turned his head to the ceiling, looking at the thistle pattern in the tiles, pondering that possibility. “I refuse to believe that. I think it’s because kilts really turn you on.” 

Q smiled, and reached over to run his fingers over James’ shoulder. “That is true. They do. So you should definitely wear it again, and we’ll see if the sex is just as good. But next time, I’m bending you over the bed with your kilt still on, you really should have taken my jeans all the way off when you fucked me, I think my feet are still tingling.” 

James laughed, “I think all of me is tingling.” 

After a few more minutes of quiet Q finally added, “I suppose we should let Eve know it’s safe to come back to London now.” 

James rolled to his side, studying Q’s profile until Q finally turned to look at him. “Let’s stay a few more days. I want to show you the highlands.” 

“I’d love that,” Q said with a smile, then paused as he studied James’ face before adding. “I love you.” 

“It’s been nearly a week since you’ve said that. Say it again,” James smiled. 

Q laughed, “I love you… especially in a kilt.” 

James smiled, “Yes, I know. I love you too, especially in your tight black jeans. But maybe we should put you in a kilt, so your feet don’t turn blue.” 

“I’ve never worn one,” Q shook his head. “I’m not Scottish, I don’t have a family tartan.” 

“You can wear my plaid, I think being with me makes you an honorary Scot.” 

“Really?” Q looked at him wide eyed. 

“Of course love, there is no one else who I would want to wear it.” James said warmly, before leaning in to steal another kiss. 

~~~

From Q’s personal notebook: Pretty sure I’ve never done anything as stupid as claiming I could resist James in a kilt. Don’t know what I was thinking. Six days of my life, holding out for some dumb reason, which Eve likes to remind me about whenever she has the opportunity. And I may have nerve damage in my legs after wearing those tight jeans too many days in a row. But I have to admit the pay off was tremendous. I now have my very own Bond tartan and sporran. I love it. And James seems to like me wearing a kilt as much as I appreciate it on him. Bonus! As much as I hate to admit it, I owe Eve a thank you. The highlands are beautiful and I don’t know that James and I would have ever come if she hadn’t forced us up here together. Although James mentioned something about camping next time. I may like a handsome highlander in a kilt, but I’ll be damned if I’m sleeping outside in this rainy, treeless countryside. There are sheep everywhere and the Internet service sucks. I had to hack a satellite just to get access to e-mail. James says that’s part of the point, to get away from it all, a technology detox. I threatened to with hold sex again if he actually tried that. I think he got the picture.


End file.
